THE LATE REV. T. STARR KING.; Particulars of his Last Hours.

The San Francisco Bulletin, of March 5, gives the following particulars of the last hours of Rev. T. STARR KING:

"For two or three months before his death, it was evident that he was not so well as usual, and he had frequently spoken of the necessity of giving up all literary labor. He thought it would be impossible for him to endure another year of work, and they were already agitating the question of who should fill his pulpit while he took a year's respite from labor in travel. It may not be unworthy of mention, in this connection, that Mr. KING always had a strong and strange presentiment that he should not live beyond the age of forty, and one of his friends in this city now has a letter written by him some four years since, giving his reasons for this belief. It is curious, too, that just before his sickness he had a dream, which he narrated to a friend at the time, remarking that it made more impression on him than he cared to confess. In his dream he thought he was shaving himself, and the razor slipping, gashed his throat. Physicians who were called told him he could not live ten minutes. He argued the case with them -- holding the edges of the wound together with his hand -- telling them that the windpipe nor any of the arteries were severed, and that he could recover if they would only stop the bleeding. They said it was useless, however, and that he must prepare to die. The dream was probably induced by the pain which had already begun to settle in his throat.

About two weeks before his death he first complained of not feeling well, and of some trouble with his throat. His friends urged him to be more careful, and not expose himself to the air; but he thought it was only an ordinary care of sore throat, and declined to confine himself or call in the aid of a physician until Friday last. In the evening he had his regular reception, and between 10 and 11 o'clock went down to a social gathering at the church, though still suffering. On Saturday evening he had invited a number of friends to supper, but when evening came he was unable to appear at table. While supper was going on, however, a bridal party came to be married. Mr. KING had received no previous intimation of such a visit, and sent down asking to be excused, saying that he was confined to his bed. The party replied that they had set their hearts on being married by Mr. KING, and would come up to his bedside sooner than be defeated in their desire. With that spirit of self-sacrifice for which he was so remarkable, he then said he would get up and go down into the parlor. He did so, and went through the ceremony, but though it was performed in a very few minutes, he was so weak at its conclusion that he had to be assisted up to his room.

On Sunday morning his congregation were alarmed by the announcement that he was unable to preach. The attending physician pronounced it a seriouscase of diphtheria, and said he should have been called at least a week sooner -- it had been too long neglected. The disease gained strength, and the patient's prostration increased. On Wednesday, however, the complaint seemed under medical control, but so prostrated was the patient that for two days it had been difficult to keep up his vital energies. Yesterday he was visited by an attack of pneumonia and experienced great difficulty of respiration. At 6 o'clock last evening the attack was very severe, and Dr. ECKEL feared that it might prove fatal; but the patient possessed wonderful recuperative power, and seemed to revive, passing a very comfortable night. It was always a peculiarity of Mr. KING that he possessed a remarkable degree of vitality, and that notwithstanding his feeble frame he would endure a vast deal of fatigue, being sustained by the sheer force of indomitable will. It was remarked, also, that his constitution yielded to medical treatment with remarkable ease, a half grain of quinine producing more effect on him than two grains would on an ordinary man; so sensitive and delicate was his physical organization hat he could drink neither coffee nor strong tea. A consultation of physicians yesterday had pronounced the disease checked, though they feared his system might not be able to recover from its prostration. During last night light stimulants were administered to him to keep up the vital force, and he seemed getting alone remarkably well until about 5 1/2 o'clock in the morning, when a second attack of pneumonia set in -- the doctor having previously stated that he feared that his patient could not survive another attack.

This second attack was not more violent than the first, but the patient's strength was so expended that there was little or nothing for medicine to build upon. When taken with the first attack, Mr. KING had remarked to some one standing by -- 'I know what this is -- it is a severe attack of pneumonia.' When the second occurred, he said to the doctor -- 'What is this? Is this pneumonia, too?' The doctor replied that it was. Mr. KING then asked -- 'Can I survive it?' The doctor told him no; he thought he could not. 'How long can I live?' he asked. 'Not a half hour.' 'Are you sure I cannot live longer than that?' The doctor told him he feared he could not. Friends then asked him if he had anything to say. He replied -- 'Yes, a great deal to say; I want first to make my will.' Up to this time, for two or three days, he had not been able to speak above a whisper; but responding to the power of his will, his voice now resumed its old power and tone, and he spoke nearly as loud as ever.

A friend sat by his bedside, and he dictated the will. It was read to him afterward, and he assented to its correctness by saying 'all right' at the end of each paragraph, exclaiming at the close: 'It is just as I want it.' He then hesitated a moment, and dictated an important correction. A pen was given him and he signed it, in a handwriting as firm and bold as he ever wrote in his life, even punctuating the abbreviation of his name, and putting an accustomed flourish beneath the signature. Then came the sad task of bidding his friends who were present goodbye. One by one they came up to his bedside; in every instance he greeted them with a cheerful smile, as though he were only going on a journey of a day or two, grasping their hands, and saying, in that sweet, pleasant voice of his, 'Good-bye.'

Some one asking how he felt, he said, 'Happy, resigned, trustful,' then repeating the 23d Psalm in a clear and well-modulated voice. At the verse, 'Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me,' he raised his fingers and his eyes as calmly as though in his pulpit, his voice as firm and as strong as ever. After this exertion his strength seemed to fall him. Sinking back in bed: 'It is all right for me, but she will feel it' -- pointing to his wife. Friends again gathered round his bedside, and he bade and smiled them good-bye. His little son being brought in, he said: 'Dear little fellow -- he's a beautiful boy!' kissing his hand to the child as the nurse carried it away in his arms. This was his last act on earth. Calmly closing his eyes, he seemed to go to sleep. A great and good and generous man was dead."

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A version of this archives appears in print on April 3, 1864, on Page 8 of the New York edition with the headline: THE LATE REV. T. STARR KING.; Particulars of his Last Hours. Order Reprints|Today's Paper|Subscribe